


(Not So) Good Sports

by paulmcfartney



Category: McLennon - Fandom, The Beatles
Genre: M/M, McLennon, god i can't even picture it because it'd be such a mess, imagine them playing mariokart honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 08:40:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13337514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paulmcfartney/pseuds/paulmcfartney
Summary: Paul and John play Mario Kart on their lazy night in and chaos ensues.





	(Not So) Good Sports

Paul and John were usually a pretty tame duo. They barely fought, and when they did, it would end in a flurry of kisses and sweet nothings. But one thing ways managed to get both men worked up to the point that they were nearly at each other's throats: Mario Kart. At first, everything would start out all innocent and lighthearted, both men being unusually good sports. But when one would start to harmlessly trash talk the other, all fiery hell would break loose and they'd have to quit for the time being.

Tonight, Paul and John were curled up together on the couch in their newly-bought home on the outskirts of London. They'd previously had plans with George and Ringo and their girls, but something had invariably come up with the two men and unfortunately had to be cancelled. Of course, the two lover's weren't complaining at all. They wanted a night just to lie around and relax, and maybe even roll around in the bed sheets for a bit. Tonight had been a night of rest and snuggling, nothing sexual. They'd made grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner, after John's protests that he'd wanted Chinese takeout from the little Asian restaurant down around the corner. John wasn't nearly as upset as he would be with anyone else, as Paul's grilled cheese was famous for its unusual burst of flavor, and it was one of John's favorites.

Now, they could be found laid up on the sofa, wrapped up in the tangle of each other's limbs and the warmth of the blanket that Ringo had given them as a housewarming gift. A bowl of popcorn rested on Paul's lap, and John would occasionally remove his hands from around the man's hips to pop a kernel into his mouth. John had insisted on watching E.T. after Paul had mentioned that he'd never seen it. He kept sneaking little glances at the man between his legs, just to make sure that he was enjoying it as much as he was. By the looks of it, Paul was thoroughly engrossed in the film, and when the end credits had begun to roll up the screen, he'd seen a single tear make it's way down his round cheek.

They sat there for a moment as the seemingly intoxicating music of the great John Williams filled the cozy room before Paul lifted his head off of John's chest and ran a hand through his already ruffled hair. He shifted so that their chests were pressed together with John's still above him, and begun pressing his lips to the man's clothed chest. John's hand found its way into Paul's hair and his thumb stroked back and forth. "What d'you wanna do, love?" John croaked, having not used his voice in the past two hours. Paul sighed and tilted his head to the side to listen to the steady sound of his loving boyfriend's soft heartbeat.

A competitive fire broke out in John's chest and he wondered what Paul would say if he even suggested it. He took a sudden risk and the question almost came flying out of the older man's mouth. "How about a game of Mario Kart?" Paul sighed once more and raised his head to look at John in the eye through the thick lenses of his glasses. "You know what we get like whenever we play that game, John. God, it turns us into animals." But John could see that playful, competitive glint in his boyfriend's eyes, and in no time, Paul had gone to snatch up their DS Lites from what had become the junk drawer in the kitchen.

Soon enough, they were battling against each other in a fiery frenzy, both men tossing curse words at the other if he tried to break his lead. They sat, thigh to thigh, legs crossed and brows furrowed in concentration. John pulled ahead of Paul, but he soon fell behind after being hit by a red shell, sent with love from his boyfriend. "Ah, fuck you, mate!" John shouted, just about ready to toss his red DS across the room. Paul cackled with delight. "Can't help that I'm better than you, love." Something awoke within John and he was determined to beat the man at his side.

The last round came quickly and it was anybody's game. Much to John's disbelief, Paul was in the lead the majority of the race. Fortunately, John got just what he needed: the glorious blue shell that would take Paul down instantly. He waited until just the right moment, just before his boyfriend was going to cross the finish line, and basically smashed the button that would send out the sacred shell. Paul noticed what was coming and shot out a string of curses at his lover. "Fuck, fuck, John!" But it was too late for the younger man.

It hit him right before he crossed the finish line and John went zooming past him, ultimately winning the whole game. He shot up in excitement and began to dance around the parlor. "You absolute wanker!" Paul's voice cracked at the intensity of his sudden outburst. John couldn't help but think that Paul was genuinely hurt by this loss. He ruffled the man's dark hair from above him. "What? Is my little Paulie upset that he didn't win?" If looks could kill, John would've been dropped right dead by now, because Paul had that look in his eyes that made him look like he could commit murder in an instant.

Instead of lunging at John and taking a swing, he just sighed. "You can sleep on the couch tonight." The older man was in shock, in complete disbelief of what had just come out of his lover's mouth. "Sorry, what did you just say?" John sputtered out. Paul looked him dead in the eyes, completely expressionless. "I said, you can sleep on the couch tonight, Lennon," he spat, standing up and making his way towards the stairs. John was astounded at how incredibly thick the other man sounded. "Jesus, Paul. I beat you at Mario Kart and now you're banishing me to the couch for the night?" He could feel his blood start to boil and his face start to become heated in slight anger. John had to admit, it was kind of funny seeing his normally happy-go-lucky boyfriend get so worked up about something so minuscule. The dark haired man seemed to stomp up the carpeted stairs, his lips pouted and brow furrowed in irritation.

He stood in the parlor, arms crossed and foot tapping on the floor, patiently waiting on Paul's return. Paul appeared on the stairs seconds later holding John's pillow and tossed it at him hastily. "Goodnight, John," he almost whispered, and trudged back upstairs. John was appalled at what had just happened, mouth agape and pillow slung at his side. Fighting over this with Paul wasn't something he wanted to experience, so he just let it go. He accepted his position and laid down on the now cold sofa, trying to get some rest. Once he'd thought about it some more, John had to admit, he was a bit of an arse to his boy. If anything, he'd gotten what he had deserved, and hopefully, Paul would be over it in the morning.

When Paul had finally finished showering and crawled into the empty bed, knowing that what he had done was wrong. Kicking John to the couch for a night over some petty little fight over a game was a shitty thing to do. As he turned out the light on his bedside table, he half expected his boyfriend's arms to immediately crawl around his waist and pull him into his warm chest. Paul held an extra pillow to his chest as a replacement for John, but it just wasn't the same.

The soft creaking of the floorboards is what woke John from his light sleep. He didn't think much at first, and just dismissed it as the wind outside. But when his blanket was lifted up and another body slipped on top of him, he knew. Neither man said a word as John's hands wandered to the small of Paul's back and they tangled their legs together in the darkness. Paul's ear once again found John's heartbeat and listened intently as it slowed to a calm rate. Peace at last.

"I'm sorry for being such a prick," Paul muttered into John's chest steadily rising and falling chest, already half asleep. Hands made their way up the back of Paul's shirt and calloused fingers began to glide their way over his skin. "S'alright, love, I deserved it for poking at you like that," John replied. Paul chuckled gently, not wanting to hurt the man underneath him. "You were an arse, but you didn't deserve to be laid up on the couch all night." Paul's fingers stroked John's bangs away from his eyes so that he could look at him properly. His hand lingered on the man's cheek and his thumb instinctively began to stroke up and down, John soon nuzzling into the warmth. "If I wasn't on the couch, then we wouldn't have gotten to have this moment."

Soon enough, sleep pulled at their eyelids and they fell asleep together, one comfortably laying on top of the other. And when they awoke the next morning, groggy and eyelids still heavy, Paul had that same devilish glint in his dark eyes as last night. "Another quick round?"

Fucking Mario Kart.


End file.
